Page 43 of Recon Rendezvous

“Yes, exactly. Good girl,” I murmur against her hair. “Again, these boots were a good choice. Now, I can do this.”

Surging forward, I enter her from behind in one long stroke, bottoming out and pulling out in one fluid motion.

“Oh, fuck,” she cries.

She’s so fucking responsive. Never holding back how she’s feeling, not that first night and every time after and I fucking love it.

“Yes, fuck. You feel so damn good.”

Driving in again, I have every intention of taking this slow, dragging this out, torturing her on my dick for as long as her legs will hold her up, but the feel of her at my mercy, wrapped around me so tightly, already quivering as I pick up steam is too much. My body is on autopilot, my hips thrusting again and again, the sound of our skin slapping, the sweet scent of her hair surrounding me, overloading my senses, and I need to come.

“Look what you do to me, London,” I growl as her panting breath fogs the glass her cheek is pressed against. Crowding closer, kissing along her exposed neck and jaw. “You drive me fucking crazy. I need to have you in a bed. The things I’d do to you.”

“Like what?” she stammers.

“Tie you up. Strap you down. Fuck you until I can finally fucking think straight. Until I can think of anything else beside you. But that seems impossible,” I grunt in her ear as she clenches around me.

She moans, pressing back as the sounds and scent of sex envelop us, cocooning us from the bustling city below.

“What about that do you like so much, baby? Do you love my obsession? How I can’t get enough of you. Or is it being fucking owned by me?”

“God, Xander. Your mouth,” she pants.

“That’s right, baby. My mouth. My dick. Yours. Everything is for you,” I growl when she clenches around me. I’m babbling. Words pouring from deep within me and I can’t get them to stop.

Our sweaty bodies come together again and again as I slide deeper, fuck harder. My balls tighten as her arousal runs down my heated skin.

“Be a good girl. Come for me again. Can you do that for me, London? I need to feel you tight and pulsing around me.”

“Yes, please. I’m so close, Xan,” she pleads.

Xan. Fuck.

Pulling her flush against my body, I push in, grinding deep inside her while my hand finds her clit, circling slowly and she fucking quakes.

“That’s it. Let go, baby. I’ll always catch you.”

She tenses with a cry, her body taking everything from me, pulls me over the cliff with her, and I hold myself deep as I shoot off like a geyser.

We stand there, locked together, as my world tilts completely on its axis and I cling to her, because there is nowhere else I’d rather be. I’ve barely caught my breath when she shifts with a hum.

“I heard that. You’re cloaked in satisfaction, just like you knew you would be,” I say. Pressing kisses to her shoulder, I turn my head, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair, the sweat along her skin and smile into a few kisses. Running my nose along her jaw to her hair, I inhale her scent again, filling my lungs and brain with this sense memory, before nipping her ear.

“As soon as my legs work again and I can walk without wobbling, I’m going to stretch you out and taste every sweaty inch of you,” I murmur.

She exhales a shaky breath as I finally pull out, making sure I have a grip on this condom. Damn, I’ve never hated an inanimate object more. There shouldn’t be anything between us.

Her shriek echoes around us as I bend, swooping her into my arms bridal style.

“I told you, I got you,” I say, carrying her to the couch. “Sit your pretty ass right here. Let me take care of you,” I mumble against her lips, stealing a kiss. I gesture to the condom. “I’ll be right back.”

“What do you want to order for dinner?” I call out, but she doesn’t respond.

Ridding myself of the condom, I clean up quickly, already thinking about all the fun we’re going to have after dinner tonight. Grabbing a towel, I get the water nice and warm so I can get her cleaned up and we can relax.

Stepping out into the living room, I almost drop the towel when I see her buttoning her coat. She doesn’t meet my gaze as I approach, instead focusing on the simple tasks of gathering her things and straightening her hair.

I follow her without a word and it’s when we’re finally standing in my open door that she looks up and meets my eyes. There’s a wariness there that I’d do anything never to see again.

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